A/N: Alright, lovely readers. Here I am with the next installment! Thank you so much for your uplifting reviews- I'm still smiling and I read those hours ago. This time, as I promised, I'm back with Kyouya's perspective.

You have no idea how long it took me to figure where he went. Isn't that odd? I think so, and I'm the one writing it.

Anyway, fret not, my faithful readers. I figured it out.

I dedicate this chapter to my first and most avid reviewer SasoLOVE111, for her support.

Disclaimer: Really, I hate this part. I don't own OHSHC or any of the characters. Unfortunately.

I had no idea where I was going as I politely stormed out of the Music Room; which was unusual, since I never did anything when it didn't have a purpose.

I just knew that I had to get out of that room, and away from her. This just made me all the angrier- this running away business.

I winced as the door to the Music Room slammed shut behind me, echoing demandingly as I loped down the empty hall. The rainbow of lights dancing across the hallway- refracted from the crystal chandeliers swaying above the silent halls- teased my eyes, making me wish for a pair of very expensive sunglasses.

My leather folio was clasped tightly in both my hands, my rigid fingers digging into the supple material; I was worried that I might end up losing my temper and hit something.

Needless to say, making a scene was not something that I could abide- neither could my father, and I had felt his palm across my face enough times to know it for a fact.

My breathing was ragged as I walked down the hall hurriedly, and my glasses were falling down the bridge of my nose, perched precariously at the end. But I couldn't let go of my papers. To do so would be disastrous, I knew.

It was eerily quiet in the halls; every step I took left me wincing from the resounding crack as my shoes met polished marble. Apparently, I'm angry, I thought with a smirk, albeit it an angry and just slightly mangled smirk.

Though I had trouble working through it, I finally figured out why- exactly- I was so angry. It was because the girl that I had assumed was as common as a ten yen piece had so much influence over me, over my thought process.

For the halls to be this quiet left me uneasy in the far reaches of my mind. I still wasn't calm enough to let anything but that furious cold occupy the forefronts.

Usually there was at least one group of tittering fan girls (I gritted my teeth as I figured that this imaginary flock was probably talking about Haruhi), or a couple of jostling guys.

But not today- it was as if everyone in this collection of buildings knew exactly what was storming the halls.

I checked my watch by lifting the entire clumping of leather and clasped flesh up to eye level just to be on the safe side; 2:25, the expensive hands read out.

I still had thirty-five minutes until I could officially leave; I could always walk home, I acknowledged, wanting to be out of an at least five mile radius of Fujioka Haruhi, But I don't want to walk, and since my limousine arrives almost exactly as the bell rings, I suppose I should just tough it out.

I sighed angrily, pulling my lips into a scowl that could freeze the Sahara Desert. It was a good thing that no one was in the hallway, because then I couldn't guarantee that my fists would stay locked on my leather-bound portfolio.

Screw it, I thought as I left the gilded portal into the bright sun outside. I held up my hands, almost confident that I wouldn't try to drive in into the wall.

Curse Haruhi for making me so upset I had to leave, curse her for wounding my pride and confusing my feelings, I growled mentally as I found my way into the maze that dominated most of the school grounds.

Though admittedly, being in the maze-outside and away from everyone was one of the better things that I had done today.

One of the worst, my mind quipped, a separate entity again, is that you blew up at Haruhi in front of everyone. Though, after I rationalized it, I realized that no one really noticed my 'explosion.'

I grimaced in something approximating an apology, even though the gesture was useless with no one to see it. I wouldn't have apologized any other way.

I walked aimlessly, not really focusing on anything except when I had to push thorned roses away from my face; a few times, I didn't catch the blooms until they left a wet, angry red line across my face.

Why was I really mad at Haruhi? (I was so angry that any previous musings about the subject were drowned in a torrent of angst.) Was it because I couldn't control how I felt about her? Control was something I thrived on, something that defined me. Losing it, especially around someone as politically infinitesimal as she was, was something that didn't sit well as me.

But the question was (I mused, feeling slightly better because I at least had identified the problem), how was I going to solve the problem? I couldn't just let this issue go on unhindered and unsolved.

It went against the very grain of my being to consider just sitting back and do nothing. Wasn't that equivalent to admitting defeat? If anything, perhaps that thought ate at me the most.

I pushed my glasses back on the bridge of my nose, cursing as another thorn-laden rose raked across my cheek. That's three, I sighed mentally, having calmed down a considerable amount. Three obvious marks across my face; now that won't have people talking tomorrow. They'll think that I got into some kind of lover's quarrel.

I found the stone veranda that had been used so many times by the Host Club as a hiding spot during Tamaki's obsession with playing commoner's games. I took a seat at the familiar table, resting my forehead in my hands.

What should I do about Haruhi, I obsessed, my mind my own. Really, how many options do I have? Short of finding a way to revoke Haruhi's scholarship?

That was cruel beyond measure; and while the idea had merit, I was not a sadist by any means.

The tranquil air was interrupted as my phone- tucked neatly into the pocket of my blazer- started vibrating in a demanding manner. I plucked the device out of its resting place, flipping the plastic apparatus open in the same motion.

"Hello, Kyouya speaking," I answered, my voice smooth and flat- as if I was never angry in the first place. I was good at that- hiding my emotions.

What benefit was it to anyone else if they knew what I was feeling at every moment? I wasn't Tamaki; I didn't need anyone else invested in my own life except myself.

There was hurried shouting at the end of the other line, and it had the faint carryings of an echo; it was the Hitachiins, both yelling the same sentence- even alternating every other sentence- into my ear. Very loudly.

"You need to slow down and repeat yourself… selves. I have no idea what you two are shouting about. What about a school bag, now?" I punctuated this last uttering with a sigh, perceiving that I was being wrangled into an errand that those look-al-likes were too lazy to do themselves.

But as the reliable one, I was almost honor-bound to do what they needed of me… provided that they owe me something in the future.

"Okay, one more time, senpai. But try to keep up this time, please." This time around, only one of the pair spoke- presumably Hikaru. "We need you to run… someone's school bag to them. We know you're still at the school and we've just left," I checked my watch to confirm the time. I almost cursed out loud- it was 3:30.

My limo had probably already gone home- with me still at school. I really should have just walked home.

"So could we get you to take it over to them? It's pretty important." Hikaru finished, seeming almost hesitant to finish explaining the favor.

I did sigh this time. Lazy idiots. "Who's book bag?" There was a lengthy pause at the end before a small voice answered.

"Haruhi; it's Haruhi's bag." I clenched my fist, but otherwise refrained from answering.

"Senpai, we know it's such short notice, but she really need her books. You don't want her to get kicked out, do you?" Yes, yes, I do.

"Besides, her house isn't really that far out of the way… and… we would really owe you." These were the magic words.

"Fine, I will." I clipped out shortly and hung up, leaving no room for negotiations. It was the typical method of Ootori business.

I stood up easily, almost roused to excitement about the fact that I had some free labor for such a small price.

I refused to think about my destination and what- who- resided in said destination. All I had to do was hand her the book bag and leave. Be cordial of course, since it would benefit no one if I was outwardly rude to her.

I loped easily back into the Music Room, my trek back inside made a little easier by the fact that this time I had something to gain. Was it always going to be like this for me? Will I only be happy when I get something out of a situation?

The door didn't slam shut this time, leading me to believe that it had been my own agitated emotions that led me to believe that everything had been as angry as I was leaving.

I easily shrugged off the thought as my sights landed on the worn, brown bag that looked heavy with academic literature. Picking it up with only a slight intake of breath at its beguiling weight, I strode out of the space confidently without stopping to study the room.

I almost cursed my ignorance when I got outside. I had forgotten that I had to mode of transportation; I had to carry this stupid millstone all the way to Haruhi's house.

I was covered in a sticky layer of sweat when I arrived at the stairs leading up to Haruhi's apartment; my blazer was slung over my shoulders and my sleeves were rolled up above my elbows with my tie loose around my neck.

Those lazy idiots owe me double, I thought, as I stared in weary apprehension at the next obstacle- a lengthy flight of stairs.

I mounted the stairs that seemed like a stack of mountains one at a time. The leather deadweight slapped against my thigh with every step, but before I knew it, I was at the top, panting for all I was worth.

Another few movements and I managed to reach the door bell. I pressed it once, and straightened up- I couldn't betray any sign of weakness, especially not in front of Haruhi.

I only had to wait a few moments before the door was wrenched open and a breathless Haruhi leaned out to thank her savior- Tamaki. I smirked as she looked into my eyes, realizing her faux pas.

Well, we know what you wanted, don't we? But I didn't offer up anything out loud; I stared at her stonily, wanting to make her uncomfortable. It was some kind of round-about (albeit perverse) type of payment.

"Kyouya-senpai," she murmured, correcting her earlier mistake. I- we- waited for the other to say something. I sure as heck wasn't going to, but I was surprised when she opened up her home to me.

"Would you like to come in, Senpai?"

I blanched at the offer, shocked that she would open up her home to me after I treated her so rudely earlier today. To invite me inside was nothing short than an act of kindness, a concept that was completely alien to me.

She noticed my indecision and smiled lightly at me. "Don't be shy, Kyouya-senpai. I just put on some tea and I think I may have made too much. It would be a shame to waste it."

Ah, now here was something that I understood; this kind of manipulation- to make me feel guilty if I refused. That was what decided the matter for me, a type of grudging respect for Haruhi.

I looked down into her melted chocolate eyes and felt something twist within the pit of my stomach- not to mention more delicate parts of my anatomy.

"Thank you," I answered, regretfully relieved to be able to come out of the heat. Subjecting myself to her kindness, in the vulnerable state that I was in, didn't help to assuage my wounded pride. "That's very kind of you." But I accepted anyway.

Her home was nice and neat, but painfully simple to the point of being plain. I looked around, trying not to be too critical… or to at least keep it off my face.

"Please," she called out from somewhere that I assumed to be the kitchen. I couldn't see from here. "Make yourself at home."

I nodded, even though she couldn't see me. There was a low-lying table and I sat in front of it, folding my legs underneath me.

I was still angry, but it wasn't directed at her anymore; I was angry at myself for not looking at things from a more rational angle.

The Ootori way of business- of life- was so thoroughly ingrained in me, I was angry that I didn't realize the best option in the beginning.

Who said that I couldn't have Haruhi? If I wanted her- and I already acknowledged that I did- then I should just… take her.

Haruhi walked into the room, displacing my train of thought, balancing a tray with a tea pot and two glass stationed on it. Time to set the plan into motion.

It was hastily drawn together in my mind, no more than a string of carefully placed actions, but it was a plan nonetheless. And besides, I could refine it later. All that mattered now was that I put it into action.

I stood up quickly, gracefully I knew, to take the tray from her shocked hands. She tried to protest, but I only smiled at her, placing in the action a wink for emphasis.

Oh, how the twins would laugh. Ootori Kyouya winking? It was unheard of; but if I wanted what I did, then sacrifices would have to be made.

I gently placed the tray on the table, the glass clinking slightly with the motion. I glanced up to notice that Haruhi was still standing.

"Well," I asked, a slight smile on my face- both for show and for the prize. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

And so ends another chapter. I know it's a bit of a cliffhanger, and you may be confused as to the sudden change in Kyouya, but the cheeky little bugger has something up his sleeve, I can guarantee. So that's it for me until next time.